


things you said while we were driving

by millyvanilly



Category: Dancing with the Stars (US) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 19:46:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5838607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millyvanilly/pseuds/millyvanilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>derek realizes he isn't ready for the season to end</p>
            </blockquote>





	things you said while we were driving

**Author's Note:**

> a short drabble for @plasticbaggy1 on tumblr

They’ve been together for ten weeks now. Ten weeks of getting to know her, of breaking down her walls. Ten weeks of her blushing and his stupid jokes. Ten weeks of falling asleep with her smile still flashing through his mind, her laughter ringing in his ears.

He’s been taking it one step at a time, never letting himself think beyond whatever challenge the producers had thrown at them, never letting himself imagine an after.

But as she tosses her bag into the back seat of his car - one hand holding her ponytail in place, a hair tie between her teeth - it hits him, like a punch to the stomach. Because after tonight, everything changes.

They’ll either win, or they won’t. And then they’ll be on a plane to New York and GMA and a day or two of interviews. Maybe he’ll stay for a little while before heading back to LA, but it won’t be the same because she’s heading back to Iowa and her family and fucking Ryan. And that’s when he realizes he’s not ready for this to end. He’s not ready to say goodbye.

It’s only when she finishes her ponytail and looks up that he realizes he’s been staring. Her eyes are hazel today, just like they’d been ten weeks ago when she’d walked into the studio, back into his life. And before he can stop himself, he’s remembering it; her opening the door, the brief second where surprise flashed across her face, the accompanying smile, the way she squealed his name as he opened his arms for a hug.

"Derek?” Her voice brings him back to the present.

“Huh?” He turns the keys in the ignition.

“Are you...okay?” She sounds almost hesitant, like she’s scared of his response.

“Yeah.” He’s shutting her out and she notices; he catches a glimpse of her stiff smile out of the corner of his eye. (It’s ironic, really, how he’s spent this whole season breaking down her walls, teaching her that it’s okay to be vulnerable, and he closes up like this at the thought of losing her.)

She doesn’t pressure him, though, and at first he’s grateful. But then they’re waiting at a red light and neither of them are saying anything and all he can think about is how he isn’t ready to let her go. 

She looks at him - it’s just a quick glance but he catches it out of the corner of his eye and it’s enough to make him instinctively turn towards her. She’s biting her lip, like she does when she’s worried, and absently twirling a lock of stray hair around her finger. And he’s struck again by how normal this has become, how seamlessly she’s fit into his life, and how much it’s going to hurt when she leaves. 

“Hey, Shawn?” he chokes out. 

She can hear it in his voice: something’s wrong. 

Ten weeks ago, she would’ve ignored it. She would’ve dismissed the nagging guilt as she pushed him away. It wasn’t that she hadn’t cared - because she did; even back then, even when she hadn’t seen him in three years, she had still cared. But she had been scared. She was scared that letting him open up would break down the walls she had worked so hard to build. She was scared of the pain, the uncertainty, the vulnerability. So she had done what she did with anyone who got too close; she had forced him away. 

But it was ten weeks later and Derek wasn’t anyone. Maybe it was the lingering feelings of her seventeen-year-old crush muddling her judgement, but blocking him out wasn’t an option. It had never been. And he knew it. 

He was persistent but patient, understanding and empathetic. He was open with her. He put himself out there - left himself completely exposed - and showed her that vulnerability was strength too. And eventually, she listened. She took down her barriers, and let herself out in a torrent of emotions that felt like a free fall. It wasn’t easy, opening herself up like that. But he had been there to catch her.

So as he pulls into the parking lot and turns towards the door, she catches his wrist. 

“Hey,” her voice sounds more confident than she feels. “What’s up?”

He settles back into his seat and takes her hand in his own. 

“It’s stupid.” 

“Tell me anyway.” 

He doesn’t know what to say. 

“Is it me?” she sounds so dejected his heart almost breaks. 

“No,” he forces out. “No. Yes. Fuck.”

“Is it something I did?” He doesn’t have to meet her eyes to see the concern in them. 

“No,” he breathes. “You didn’t do anything.” 

That was the problem, wasn’t it? She was leaving and she wasn’t doing anything to stop it. And he knew it was selfish, but he wished she would. He wished she would stay. 

“So what’s wrong?” she’s not backing away and he’s hit again by how much she’s grown. 

“I’m not ready for the season to end.” The words are loaded with emotion but it’s not enough. It doesn’t convey how much he’s enjoyed these ten weeks with her. How scared he is of losing her. 

It’s not enough. Because he loves her and he doesn’t want to let this go and - 

He loves her.

_Shit._


End file.
